


stand and stop and fall apart

by calerine



Series: the reality of everything [2]
Category: Nowhere Boys (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 08:26:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1544246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calerine/pseuds/calerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shameless feel-good fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stand and stop and fall apart

There's a battered bar stool in the corner of their room that Felix dragged home after a gig last year. It had one shorter leg, wobbled precariously every time someone sat on it so Felix took it home and sanded the rest of the legs down, and Ellen when she stretched out her legs and leaned against the wall, would scribble pictures of kittens on its legs, her painted toes tangled with its.

Now Andy uses it, bracing his elbows on his marked vanity top while he lines his lips with red red liquid gold. On off-days like this one, Felix wakes up to him balanced crosslegged and wearing his new seaweed green bra and lace panties and Felix always gives in to the urge to roll onto his side to watch him work, running his eyes down the gradient of his back and the angles of his hips when he's left his fingerprints before. Princess Bubblegum and Finn are stark against his pale skin and bleached sunlight, dust bunnies framing them in whirling motion and Felix suddenly has to catch a breath because Andy is so fucking beautiful. It doesn't make sense but there's this long stretch of time in which the air is so thin and Felix wants to hide him in the palm of his hand, keep him safe from the demons and scabbed-over wounds in his skin. He thinks about the night they sat side by side along the main road. He thinks about Andy's eyes in the dim streetlights, his dress, the proud way he spoke about the things he loved. Last week, Felix had heard him calling home and heard his voice travelling over the syllabi of Felix's name. It sounded the same. 

Then Andy catches him watching, smiles and says _good_ _morning_ around a mouthful of raspberry lipstick. Felix knows. He knows exactly what it tastes like, can feel it on this tongue now, the sense-memory of Andy's fingers in his hair yesterday night, his smaller body pressed up against Felix's and the way Felix couldn't stop kissing him, holding on to his fingertips until they fell asleep with their shoes still on. He knows he's lucky. Maybe the universe is making up for all he had to settle for. 

"I took off your shoes when I got up to pee in the middle of the night," Andy says and Felix shifts his head past the edge of the bed to see his Doc Martens sitting together, laces strewn over the carpet. "Come do my nails," He asks. Or come do my eyeliner, my lipstick, kiss me, hold my hand while we watch your favourite movie again (because I like your skin when it's touching mine.) And Felix always goes. Always does his eyeliner, his lipstick, kisses him and holds his hand, bumping their shoulders and lets Andy use him as a pillow. These days, he understands the things Andy's too embarrassed to say.

Felix closes his eyes, sighs into the give of Andy's pillow, breathing in his cheap shampoo and lingering perfume. "Okay, how do you want them?"

"Black," Andy says, pulling Felix close once he's within reach and pushing his face into his belly. "Can we use yours?"

"Then you have to do mine later." Felix plants a loud smacking kiss on the top of Andy's head, feels him nod against his stomach and strokes fingers through his hair. 

One day, someone is going to ask him, _do you ever think about all the stars that had to align so that he's sitting here in your bedroom curling his eyelashes with a brush that you picked up at Terry White yesterday?_

And Felix is going to say _yes, yes all the time._

 


End file.
